“How come the ol’ Pig ain’t in no storylines?”
What? You serious?
“Heh. Nah, I’m jus’ playin’ with ya. The Pig ain’t no actor. I play my blues and drink my wine.”
“Don’t forget the beers! Gotta have you a sixer or two in icebox case a friend who don’t drink stop by!”
Pig, there’s alcohol in beer.
“Not enough t’ matter!”
“What’s goin’ on out there? Women takin’ the day off?”
Yeah. It’s called “A Day Without Women.”
“Day without women!? Sounds like a day without sunshine! They withholding their favors from the menfolk? Sounds like a Spartan idea.”
No, it’s not Lysistrata, Pig. It’s not a sex strike.
“Women got it rough in this man’s world! Out there holdin’ it down all day, and keepin’ it up all night!”
“Look at how ev’rybody treats the lady in the Dead! Cruel and unusual to her, folks is!”
Mrs. Donna Jean?
“Nah, the new one.”
Pig, I can’t have this conversation with you again: John Mayer is not a girl. He is a pretty man.
“He ain’t a girl?”
“Then what’s he doin’ right now?”
Men do the laundry now, Pig.
“You talkin’ abut Mr. Lee down at the Wash & Fold?”
Please stop being from the past.
“Can’t help it. Stuck here.”
We’re all stuck here, buddy.
“That’s the truth! All ya can do is find yourself someone to love up on. Play the radio too loud and fuck ’til dawn!”
“Lemme ask you something, Mr. Writer Man. Anybody still remember the ol’ Pig?”
Can’t speak for everyone, but I’m listening to you sing right now.
“How’s that band o’ mine sound?”
Like someone cut the brakes on God’s Cadillac.
“Ha! Yeah, I like that. Hey! Don’t be spending too much time with the dead. You’ll start gettin’ used to it.”
I like that.